When Hell Is At Your Door
by L.L. Grey
Summary: With not long left to live, what kind of thoughts are crossing Dean's mind? How will Sam react? Much more humorous than the title and first paragraph implies. Set during Season 3, Wincest.


**Title: When Hell Is At Your Door**

**Pairing: Dean/Sam**

**Rating: T for now, but eventual M.**

**Warnings: Wincest, a little OOCness, eventual sex, and attempt at a plot.**

**A/N: Just to be clear, this is set during Season 3 a little bit before Dean takes a peek downstairs. I'll try to update as much as possible. :) Enjoy.**

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><p>One month, fourteen days, and twenty three hours. That's all the time I have left. It's odd, knowing what day you are going to die. Knowing, and not being able to do a damned thing about it.<p>

They say to live your life like every day is the last, a philosophy I've been embracing tightly lately. Every woman that caught my eye, every slight craving for any food, every feeling, impulse I got, I went for it. Everything. What was the point of self control, denying yourself pleasure when soon, all you'll have to look forward to is pure literal hell.

I think this is why, on my seventy-fourth day left, I began to notice _Sam_.

He was just talking. Babbling on about some new discovery in the job we were working. I was trying to listen, honestly, but the soft yet excited thrum in his voice enthralled me. He pointed to something on a map. Man, he had some long slender fingers. Quite pretty, like the rest of him.

Whoa, what? Did I just use the words "pretty" and "soft thrum" to describe Sam?

"Dean?"

I blinked, those pretty fingers were waving in front of my face. I felt the strangest urge to kiss them, like precious flowers.

"Um, yeah?"

Who even kisses flowers? Where did that thought come from?

"Dean, did you hear anything I just said?" the words were followed with a sigh.

"Yup."

"So what did I say?" Sam asked, getting that prissy tone he gets.

"Uh…," I innocently looked around at everything but his face, trying to grasp at the words that never reached past my ears.

He began to lecture me, but I was distracted, again. It was his eyes this time. A forest green that reminded me of the old days. Of hunting wendigos and ghosts in the forest mountains, before Hell, before demons, before Dad died.

He face palmed, covering those shiny pearls. How inconvenient.

"Don't ruffle your panties too much Sammy. Cattle mutilations, lots of 'em. It's probably just that vegan nest of vamps."

Sam's annoyance became evident, "If you were paying _any_ attention, you would know that there have also been a few bodies discovered around the same area. All with their throats ripped out and drained of blood."

"Okay," I agreed, "that's weird."

"Tell me about it. Do you want to go look at the bodies to make sure, before we do anything?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'd hate to have to kill such a hot babe, even if she is a vampire," I laughed, expecting the usual bitch face from Sam. Except, when he finally answered after a pause, "She has a mate," it was laced ever so subtly, slightly, hardly noticeable, with something I'd be so bold as to guess as jealousy.

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><p>The victims were murdered by vampires alright. It was obvious what to do from this point, but I had a hard time believing Lenore and her clan were responsible. However, Dean probably felt different.<p>

Everything about Dean was different now. He was acting weird, guarded, evasive. Of course, I don't blame him. Hell is at his doorstep, daring to swallow him up. That's enough to drive anyone off the edge. But like earlier, when I was telling him about the case, he was looking at me funny. Like instead of his brother, I was a piece of meat he'd like to take a big juicy bite out of.

"Whatcha thinking' about Sammy?" Dean's voice cut into my thinking.

"What?" I replied automatically.

"You are so quiet over there. Keeping secrets again, aren't ya?"

I began to blush as I went into defense, "What the hell? Why would I do that? I've been thinking nonstop of ways to stop you from going to hell, and all you make me wanna do is throw you in there myself! Damn it, Dean!"

Silence ensued, instantly making me redden even more.

"So Nameless Diner sound good?" Of course, changing the subject was Dean Winchester's forte.

I mumbled in agreement, just thankful the awkward silence after my blow up was over.

"Mmm, imma get me some pie. Pie, pie, pie. I love pie."

I rolled my eyes, Dean and his pie.

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><p>Truthfully, I didn't think the vegan vamps did it, but I had a reputation for destroying evil to uphold. However, I wasn't against buying time, (indirectly, of course), for something to come up. Besides, Sam started acting a little odd.<p>

Yet again I was watching him talk. Okay, more like watching his lips move. He had a rather pouty mouth, with lips too plump for a guy. I'd bet they were soft, too, like a girl's.

"Er, Dean?" his voice was tentative.

I realized I had stopped eating my pie, making it painstakingly obvious I was staring. Quickly stuffing my face with a fork full, I replied, "Mmph?"

He looked indecisive for a moment, eyes darting back and forth as he looked down. Then, he closed his eyes, looking like he was steeling himself for something big. When he opened them, they had a playful gleam with a hint of desire.

"Um, you got something there," he said a bit laughingly as he reached across the diner table and wiped some white pie filling off the corner of my mouth with his index finger. I watched wide-eyed as he put his finger in his mouth and sucked the wayward pie off.

What the hell? What the hell? What the hell?

"What?" Sam asked guiltlessly with those puppy dog eyes, like he did not just wipe pie cream off my mouth and seductively suck it off! It felt like I was in the only erotic film I liked more than Casa Erotica, After School Special, the XXX Edition. "There's no need to waste perfectly good pie!"

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><p>I did not just do that! Holy hell, I did <em>not<em> just do that!

Dean looked just as surprised as I was, mouth slightly ajar, eyes wide, (I'm not going to mention how cute his full lips looked or how mesmerizing his emerald eyes were.)

_There's no need to waste perfectly good pie? That_ was what I came up with?

"Heh," I breathed nervously, getting up, "bathroom," I managed before hauling ass to the men's room, cheeks flaming.

What the hell was wrong with me? Acting out like that, _in public_?

Sure, ever since I can remember, I have harbored some more-than-brotherly feelings for Dean. At first, it was innocent, hardly distinguishable from what is normal for brothers. There was no "This is wrong." or "I'm disgusting.", there was just simply Dean.

As I got older, I began to feel these "urges" to kiss him, hold him, _touch_ him. By then, I knew that the affections I held for my brother was considered wrong on so many levels. So I buried my feelings deep within myself, because I could never have what I truly desired. I dated girls to avoid suspicion, and though I never loved them, I liked them enough to feel extremely guilty for leading them down a useless path that I just hoped would lead somewhere. Oh, and there was Jessica. She was kind and loving like all the rest, and I hoped I could eventually grow to love her, but then she died.

Fate then threw me with my brother, my obsession, my beloved, leading me into a life of continuous taunting and torture.

"Okay," I said to the reflection of myself in the mirror, "You are allowed to screw up every once and awhile."

I had been doing good, right? Endearments stayed in my head, and my hands were kept to myself, (Oh God, I should not be congratulating myself on not molesting my brother!).

After a few more deep breaths I pushed open the bathroom door, bracing myself for all the temptations that were sure to come.

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><p>The drive back to the hotel was normal with an underlining tone of awkward. I didn't know what to do besides pretend nothing ever happened, even if I wanted to do otherwise.<p>

Sure, Sam looked incredibly sexy sucking that pie off his finger, and his ass looked unbelievably tasty in his fitted jeans as he bent over to retrieve his wallet he dropped on the ground.

The things I'm thinking are wrong, I know, but when you only have a few months to live and you are already going to hell, you begin to consider all options. The only thing that could possibly be a problem is well…if Sam didn't feel the same.

I let Sam drive for once, he seemed like he needed something to do, and my eyes felt a bit heavy.

I was just about to drift to sleep when I heard some shifting and sighing from the driver's seat. I opened one eye, "Got a bug in your knickers? Something wrong?"

"Ugh, yeah. My stupid shoe came untied," he replied, annoyed.

"Okay?" I said not understanding what was causing him so much distress.

"It's a driving hazard, Dean."

I rolled my eyes, Sam was such a girl.

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><p>With a sigh, Dean leaned across the car and reached for my shoe.<p>

I was about to mutter my thanks when I suddenly drove over a bump, a very _big_ bump. This wouldn't have been a big deal except this caused Dean's face to brush against an area that oh so very much wanted attention.

Dean didn't seem to notice, or _mind_, but all I could think about was how good this angle looked and how much I wanted to dig my fingers into his hair while moaning his name.

Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, he sat back up, licking his lips. I stared at him, eyes bulging, licking his lips like he just got done…

"Sam, watch the road!" my eyes snapped back to the street, cheeks on fire again.

This was going to be a long ride back.

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><p><strong>AN2: I know the point of view switches a lot, but I tried to make it easy by adding breaks and following the same back and forth pattern. There are some scenes that are just better told from one character's view than another. Sorry if it bothers you too much!**


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